


You Are All The Sweet I Need

by BaggerHeda



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Dessert is pretty good too, F/F, Lesbian Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Semi-Public Sex, Smut, Waverly thinks the fancy restaurant is amazeballs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-27
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2019-03-09 23:10:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13491768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BaggerHeda/pseuds/BaggerHeda
Summary: Waverly reluctantly dragged her eyes away from Nicole’s face, to glance down at the menu in her hand. “Oh my god, they have crème brûlée. I have to get that.”“Really? I would have pegged you for the triple chocolate,” said Nicole, looking over the menu as well. “Or maybe red velvet,” she added, looking up with a wicked little glint in her eye.





	You Are All The Sweet I Need

**Author's Note:**

> The idea for this story started as one of my little WayHaught headcanons on Twitter. Then, it got a wee bit smutty. Then, I sat down and wrote this one-shot and it got a LOT smutty, and really, is anyone surprised?

To Nicole, it was a special treat, a way to give her girl a nice surprise. To Waverly, it was an exciting night out, and an excuse to wear those suede boots that turned Nicole’s head, paired with the new short skirt she’d gotten last week.

For both of them, it had been a fabulous dinner at one of the trendiest new restaurants in the big city. Nicole had sprung it on Waverly yesterday, asking with a sly smile, “Whatcha doing tomorrow night?”

“Nothing,” replied Waverly, “what do you want to do?” Just like that, she was positively itching with curiosity. Nicole had that cat-with-the-canary look on her face; she was really bad at keeping surprises from Waverly, and Waverly was _really good_ at getting the information she wanted from Nicole. She had her ways, after all.

“How about we go out for dinner?” Nicole asked, her smile growing wide.

When Waverly agreed, Nicole said she should wear something nice, and then Waverly wouldn’t stop pestering her to tell her where, saying she needed to know the _level_ of nice. (Seriously, it was essential information, thought Waverly. Some nuance needed to go into the preparation, obviously.) Nicole held out for an entire half-hour before spilling the secret.

“I want to take us to The Mountainview, I have a reservation for seven o’clock tomorrow. Is that okay with you?” she said, worrying her bottom lip a bit.

“Okay? That’s amazeballs!” squealed Waverly. “THE MOUNTAINVIEW! I’ve heard such great things about it.” It was one of the hot new places in the city, generating a lot of buzz with the foodie crowd, specializing in a traditional menu with locally-sourced ingredients. At least that’s what the reviews said. Waverly couldn’t wait to see if it lived up to the hype.

*****

The waiter approached their table, smooth and ingratiating. “How was everything, ladies?”

“Very good, thank you. The salmon was lovely,” said Nicole.

“Excellent,” purred the waiter, whose name was Gerard. “Can I interest you in anything else? Coffee, or dessert?” When they looked at each other, he said, “Let me leave these dessert menus with you. I’ll be back in a minute,” and he smoothly drifted away from table.

Waverly picked up the small menu. “Would you like to split something?”

“No, get whatever you want. I don’t usually get dessert, not much of a sweet tooth,” Nicole demurred. She smiled that 1000-watt dimpled smile that made Waverly melt. “You are all the sweet I need.” Waverly’s heart gave a little flutter; even after this much time, Nicole’s gorgeous smile and smooth-ass manner could still knock her for a loop, which made her the _luckiest._

Waverly reluctantly dragged her eyes away from Nicole’s face, to glance down at the menu in her hand. “Oh my god, they have crème brûlée. I have to get that.”

“Really? I would have pegged you for the triple chocolate,” said Nicole, looking over the menu as well. “Or maybe red velvet,” she added, looking up with a wicked little glint in her eye.

“Too obvious,” said Waverly, with the flirtatious smile she’d been wearing all evening. “I like to keep you guessing.”

Gerard the Waiter returned, asking, “Have you decided?”

“Yes,” said Waverly, “I would like the crème brûlée.”

“Very good,” he said, and as he leaned toward Nicole, “and for you?”

“Y’know what,” Nicole said, lightly handing the menu over, “I think I’ll have the key lime pie.” Waverly widened her eyes in surprise, only slightly mocking. She didn’t know Nicole to change her mind like that very often.

“Look at you, all daring,” she murmured after Gerard had left. “Going for something sweet after all.”

“Who doesn’t like a little sugar now and then,” Nicole grinned back, returning the flirtation just as hard. She leaned in, her entire upper body swaying toward Waverly’s as she spoke, surprisingly intimate in its nearness. For half a moment, Waverly thought Nicole might close the distance and kiss her, but instead she pulled back, still wearing that lovely smile.

Actually, Nicole had been bolder than usual the whole evening, thought Waverly. She remembered when Nicole had first come to Purgatory, and the straightlaced image she’d worked hard to project when they were in public (private, well, that was another matter.) It entirely made sense for the Sheriff department’s rookie hire. When they had started dating, Nicole hadn’t kept anything secret but certainly hadn’t advertised it either, even after damn fool Champ had blurted it out in front of half the drugged-up town.

As she grew into more certainty about her place in Purgatory, Nicole had loosened up, a little. And while a fairly chaste kiss to the cheek or peck on the lips, in public, was not uncommon, Nicole generally wouldn’t indulge in more PDA than that. In uniform or not, she had her reputation and the reputation of her department to uphold.

But here, tonight? Dressed up and at a fancy restaurant, with an undercurrent of sexy sizzle running between them all evening, Nicole had been responding to Waverly’s escalating advances in kind, a thing as unusual as it was delicious. There had been hand-holding, with those long nimble fingers stroking over hers in a way that reminded her of the other marvelous things they could do. There had been much of the conversation carried out in that silky low rumble of a voice that made Waverly lean in, bending her body close so she could catch every honeyed word. And there was one supercharged moment where Nicole had leaned close to whisper something unimportant in Waverly’s ear, Waverly couldn’t even say what it was, all she could recall was the brush of lips on her earlobe, the warmth of Nicole’s breath, the buzz of the words, _sotto voce,_ against her skin, and the way it had made her flush with heat.

Maybe it was because of the wine they’d shared earlier in the meal. Maybe it was because they were away from Purgatory and surrounded by the anonymity of the big city. Whatever the reason, Nicole was in a highly playful mood and Waverly was feeling giddy and gleeful, and entirely emboldened.

When dessert arrived, they were both pleased with what they had ordered.

“Wow, this pie is _good._ Whoever made this crust knows what they’re about,” said Nicole. Even so, she only took a few savored bites before setting it aside, finished.

“I don’t know how they can have _key lime pie_ in a place that serves local specialties. Key limes come from so far away from here,” said Waverly with a wry little smile.

“Yeah, but I’ll give them a pass, it’s the wrong time of year for local berries. I think?” Nicole wrinkled her brow, as if regretting she didn’t have the local produce calendar committed to memory.

“Okay, but this crème brûlée is _fabulous._ Creamy. Rich. Smooth. You have to try a bite,” said Waverly, delicately offering up a spoon. When Nicole tried to wave her off, Waverly pressed, “C’mon, just a bite. There’s good crème brûlée. There’s great crème brûlée. And there’s this.”

“I think you just like saying ‘crème brûlée,’” Nicole interjected.

“This,” continued Waverly, “is Big O crème brûlée.” Wafting the spoon toward Nicole, she rolled her eyes back and let out a suggestive _ohhh._

It wasn’t a _When Harry Met Sally_ performance by any means, but Waverly could tell she’d stepped over the line. She knew it before she heard the soft chiding _…Waverly…_ from Nicole’s mouth, knew it when she saw the smirking amused smiles of the older couple seated near them and the blush that raced up Nicole’s neck and spilled across her cheeks. Still, it was too late to take it back, and in for a penny, in for a pound. She leaned forward, still offering the spoon, and said low enough for only Nicole’s ears, “C’mon, I know you’re a fan of the Big O, too.”

Nicole paused, then gravely accepted the bite. Her face was an interesting combination of a smile, a glare, and … something else.

They lingered a while longer over the remainder of their meal, and Waverly tried to behave herself, and mostly succeeded.

*****

Later, when they’d finished and collected their coats and were walking back to the Jeep, Waverly handed Nicole the keys. “Would you drive?”

“Sure,” said Nicole, her hand brushing over Waverly’s as she accepted the keyring. “Are you still feeling the wine?”

“No,” said Waverly, “I’m not, just a little tired.” That was pretty much a lie. She really wanted Nicole to drive so she could sit and look at her, and maybe run teasing fingers up her leg if she’d let her. Waverly suspected Nicole knew it, too, but had accepted the little fib to humour her.

The parking lot had been crowded when they’d arrived but had pretty much cleared out by this time of the evening. The Jeep was standing off by itself on the north side of the lot, near a six-foot dividing wall, and Waverly noticed Nicole going into high alert as they approached: eyes flicking quickly over the area, scanning for trouble, clearing the scene. Cop mode, Waverly called it in her head, of course. She blessed (again) whatever fortunate star had brought Nicole to her - her most wonderful girlfriend, sweet and sexy, and who definitely made her feel _safe._

And who was quite the gentleman to boot. Nicole, walking alongside Waverly with a small smile on her face, unlocked and opened the passenger door for her, extending a hand to help her up. Waverly smiled wide back up at her, feeling the crinkle in her cheeks that reflected all the cheerful happiness that came from being with Nicole.

Until.

She felt Nicole’s hand on her right knee, holding it in place, preventing her from bringing her leg inside the Jeep. In fact, Nicole stepped forward, and now her hips were between Waverly’s knees, pinning her sideways on the passenger seat. Waverly looked down at the hand, confused, not understanding, then looked back up at Nicole. “What…”

Nicole was leaning in, her other hand reaching past Waverly’s shoulder and snapping off the Jeep’s dome light, her lips barely brushing against Waverly’s cheek. Her voice came soft, low and rumbly, laden with sex and delicious trouble, and Waverly could practically feel the words sliding rough over her skin like raw silk, as every nerve sparked and her core clenched, instantly, hopelessly wet.

“You are such a naughty girl, teasing me like that,” Nicole purred, the velvet voice that made Waverly feel like swooning. “Telling me I just _had_ to try a teeny bite of your crème brûlée, how rich and smooth it was,” she continued, each word licking at Waverly like a fever. “When all I wanted to taste was you.” Now her hands had fallen to Waverly’s thighs, were insinuating their way under the hem of the short skirt, igniting Waverly.

“Jesus, Nicole, you’re turning me on,” she said with a little moan, as her legs fell further open. “Take me home.” Home was a whole bunch of kilometers away, though, and the tiny sliver of her mind that wasn’t ravenously panting for Nicole laughed that it was a good thing she’d given away the keys, she’d surely break landspeed records if she were driving and she really couldn’t afford another ticket.

“Yeah?” breathed Nicole, her clever fingers having located the edges of Waverly’s underwear (Waverly smugly thought how smart it’d been to wear her sexiest low-cut briefs, practically a thong) and were sliding and exploring their way under. Waverly lifted her hips a little, granting access.

“Yeah,” Waverly echoed back, just before Nicole kissed her deep, and she gratefully felt her tongue slide against hers, and the way their bodies melted into each other, and her hands were at the back of Nicole’s neck, to sway and stroke across those strong broad shoulders. She threw herself into the sensation, the kissing, the touching, the everything about Nicole overwhelming and joyful. She would gladly drown in it, forever.

The next thing she knew, Nicole’s face was in front of hers, sweet and hot and speaking with rough intent, as her hands were drawing the almost-thong off of her hips (and _dang_ how did she do that so smoothly.) “Waverly. I need you to do one thing for me.”

“Yeah,” Waverly exhaled. She’d do anything.

“Keep your eyes open. You gotta keep watch.”

“Watch…” Waverly repeated, not understanding, but Nicole was already sinking down to her knees and _sweet fucking thundercats_ was she going to…? Oh god she _was._ “Nicole,” she hissed out incongruously, “you’ll ruin your _trousers,_ ” as if that was even the important issue right now, as Nicole’s hands pressed to the insides of her thighs, and then she felt Nicole’s warm breath at her core, as she sat bare and dripping with want and writhing, well, writhing as much as the passenger seat allowed, anyway. For a microsecond, she wondered what Nicole had done with the underwear she’d magically spirited off Waverly’s body - did she pocket them? were they on the floor of the Jeep? - before she told her brain to shut up already.

The first exquisite pass of Nicole’s tongue, parting her and sweeping languid through her wetness, had her throwing her head back and groaning loud. One hand wrapped around the passenger handhold, the other around the headrest, tightening until her knuckles turned white. “Oh, _fuck,_ ” fell out of her mouth, a breathless benediction, as she gave herself over. Nicole set to work.

Tongue and mouth and lips all spiraled through Waverly, as Nicole sucked her in and lapped her up. It wasn’t delicate. It was a devouring, Nicole fierce and fiery, her tongue everywhere, delving deep and stroking broad, and Waverly was building high and quick. And _jeez_ there was a lot of _noise_ to it, Nicole giving these groaned-out sounds and there was really quite a lot of slurping and it was all wet and wicked and obscene in a _really_ good way. “You are,” Waverly gasped out. “ _So_ fucking hot.”

For once Nicole didn’t rise to make the stupid name joke, only grunting and chuckling into Waverly’s cunt and continuing what she was doing. Even the grunting was spectacularly hot.

And then, she saw the reason Nicole had asked her to watch, a frisson of sudden fear ratcheting up her spine. A figure, walking, moving from the lighted section of the parking lot, tangentially approaching their darkened corner.

“Nicole - ”

“Mmmfmm. Huh.”

“There’s someone walking towards us,” Waverly said, urgency filling her voice. Some kind of feeling raced through her - she wasn’t sure if it was abject terror or exhilaration, or both - but fucking in a parking lot, your girlfriend’s mouth all over your pussy while you are nothing but wet and panting for more, well, that certainly had a way of _focusing_ things.

Nicole was instantly up, standing between Waverly’s knees again, and for a hot second Waverly thought she was going to kiss her _(dear god she wanted to suck all her wetness off of Nicole’s face so fucking hot)_ but instead Nicole pressed forward, bringing their bodies breast to breast, and scanned the parking lot over Waverly’s shoulder. “Hang on to me, babe. Where?” Her hand, still under Waverly’s skirt, found home, fingers effortlessly sliding deep. Waverly’s hips jolted as her entire body flared exponentially with lust.

“Six o’clock,” she gasped. “Jesus, Nicole, _don’t stop.”_

“Got him,” said Nicole, panting loudly in her ear, her thrusts sleek and rapid. “We’re okay, he’s getting in a car now. Fuck, you’re wet, baby.”

She was. Her hands skittered over the back of Nicole’s shoulders, her fingertips dragging across the fabric of Nicole’s jacket, and Waverly felt like she was nothing _but_ the sea of wet and want between her legs and _god_ she needed Nicole in the worst way. “More. Harder,” she gritted out, surprised at how animal her growling voice had become.

Nicole complied, driving deep. Her voice came low and intense and brimming with command. “God, baby, uh huh, you’re gonna come like this, you’re gonna come for me.”

The words chained up and went cracking into her core, setting her off. Her orgasm was like electric fire, the tight white-hot charge of it deep in her belly that exploded and rattled across her limbs and shook her bones, impossibly strong flashing through her. It was quick and hard and dirty, arcing through her body and away as she arched against Nicole, clinging to her and probably shouting something too loud in her ear, but Nicole never pulled back, just wrapped her up and held her tight, rocking her, murmuring _okay, okay._ Waverly came down with a shudder, and slumped in her seat.

Nicole, chuckling, helped her get her skirt rearranged properly, helped her get faced the right way in the passenger seat. Waverly, feeling lazy-warm and content and heady, just smiled back. “Why are you laughing?”

“I was going to ask you how you liked dinner but, um, never mind,” said Nicole with a crooked grin. “Hang on a minute.” She closed the door and came around the front of the Jeep to climb in the driver’s side, while Waverly wrestled her seat belt in place. Nicole inserted the key in the ignition, then turned to look at Waverly. “You okay, baby? Should I drive or do you, uh, need anything first?”

“You can drive,” said Waverly, happiness bubbling in her chest. “I am _so_ great. I just want to do the same to you.”

“Well, you know the rules,” said Nicole with great high humour and a wicked grin, “no hands in my pants while I’m driving.” When Waverly stuck out her bottom lip in an enormous mock pout, she added, “But if you’re a good girl I’ll let you give me a blow job in my driveway.”

That got a belly laugh out of Waverly; she knew Nicole was lying through her teeth. “You will _not.”_

“No, I won’t,” agreed Nicole, laughing, “but I will let you do whatever you want once we get home.” She leaned across the center console for a quick kiss _(oh god,_ thought Waverly, _she still tastes … like me)_ before sitting back up and twisting the ignition, grinning as the engine turned over.

Waverly squirmed in her seat, and grinned too. She knew she had plenty of time to think of something _really, really good_ for dessert number two.

And it was going to be _very_ sweet.

**Author's Note:**

> I love these characters so much.
> 
> Here is another story for you, dear readers, in the meandering series of plotless smutty WayHaught one-shots. Written between seasons 2 and 3, not very connected to the canon timeline, so you may imagine it wherever you wish.
> 
> Enjoy! Please leave a kudo or comment!
> 
> You can find me flailing about on Twitter: [@boo_in_la](http://www.twitter.com/boo_in_la)


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